men." This I must confess to be true, even though I may and do heartily
esteem the saint's enthusiasm for righteousness.

So far I have described chiefly the spiritual experiences of these men,
but the details of their physical life are hardly less interesting.
There was a holy rivalry among them to excel in self-torture. Their
imaginations were constantly employed in devising unique tests of
holiness and courage. They lived in holes in the ground or in dried up
wells; they slept in thorn bushes or passed days and weeks without
sleep; they courted the company of the wildest beasts and exposed their
naked bodies to the broiling sun. Macarius became angry because an
insect bit him and in penitence flung himself into a marsh where he
lived for weeks. He was so badly stung by gnats and flies that his
friends hardly knew him. Hilarion, at twenty years of age, was more like
a spectre than a living man. His cell was only five feet high, a little
lower than his stature. Some carried weights equal to eighty or one
hundred and fifty pounds suspended from their bodies. Others slept
standing against the rocks. For three years, as it is recorded, one of
them never reclined. In their zeal to obey the Scriptures, they
overlooked the fact that cleanliness is akin to godliness. It was their
boast that they never washed. One saint would not even use water to
drink, but quenched his thirst with the dew that fell on the grass. St.
Abraham never washed his face for fifty years. His biographer, not in
the least disturbed by the disagreeable suggestions of this
circumstance, proudly says, "His face reflected the purity of his soul."
If so, one is moved to think that the inward light must indeed have been
powerfully piercing, if it could brighten a countenance unwashed for
half a century. There is a story about Abbot Theodosius who prayed for
water that his monks might drink. In response to his petition a stream
burst from the rocks, but the foolish monks, overcome by a pitiful